Tag Archives: Philosophy

The Syllable God – Poem

Creative writer - alex kennedy

The Syllable God – Poem

In front of this Lunar Eclipse,

This let loose humanoid lunatic turns mutant,

A grade-A student bullying school kids with the coolest new kicks,

Your Jiu-Jitsu flips are my amusement, your life is now truant, stupid!

Acoustic screams equipped to my new movement of music,

I’m on the run as a fugitive from their crucifixes,

Come to grips with this,

I want no part of your religion because you’re not fixing shit!

The movement I move in, so smoothly I’m moving,

It’s useless to copy; no no-body can stop me,

As I am a robotic computer, running solely on microchips,

Batteries not included,

Typos living at the end of each fingertip,

I can’t can this as a can of tuna fish,

You’ll need a tank and butane-gas to attack this nuisance,

Because I’ve just gained a new sense called no sense,

I’m merely giving lucid word pollution as a broken world solution,

So let all the new become ruins,

Light a fire under this world, do it and I will run through it,

I am emergency-calling your next-of-kin,

Maybe I’m talking articulate shit again, in which my tongue is too fluent in,

So get ready for some turbulence,

Because I’m bringing back the best of sin,

Before I am running for that border,

And become a Mexican citizen,

In 20 years when I am old and grey,

I’ll still be the same,

Even when I’m KING!


Alexander Kennedy – Creative writer

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Arm-wrestling with adolescence,

I can’t count my blessings,

As I’ve never been blessed,

My life has always been a chess-game,

That or a test, now I’m back at it again,

Grab myself a pad and a pen to be the baddest again.

Now I have a kid on the way,

Where there’s a will there’s a way,

“He’s crazy!” They’ll say…

I will kill for this day,

Now put this drill to my brain and rip out the sane.

For the past year I’ve been living in dark corners,

Shark waters; where I flash forward to happier callings,

Eyeball bawling,

Relapsing solely but these pills are so lonely.

Gotta’ do it for them, as my Dad never did,

“Alex, you’ll flip again… This is never-ending!”

I’m running from my devils,

What is heaven sending?

At God-Speed, have hope for me,

I’m more in-need of it before this corners me,

I wish I were a younger me, not hungry,

Not to put these pages under-siege with this thunder in me.

So let me sail the seas and swim with the dolphins,

Make my endorphins spin uncontrollably,

And help me bang in the nails of this coffin.

I’m all in.



I AM SLOWLY coming back….

Alexander Kennedy






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An Epic Duet: The Beautiful, the Bad and the Psychotic – Part 5

Part 5 of the duet poem I wrote with my friend Just Patty! This is probably going to break the record of longest duet poem on WordPress lol! So brace yourself my reading friends! 😉

So here we are, Part 5 of An Epic Duet: The Beautiful, the Bad and the Psychotic. I really hope you enjoy this poem; we used different writing techniques to achieve such an authentic flow. So once you have read this one, jump over to Just Patty’s page and like a bunch of her stuff too, she is a really awesome woman and all around writer. LIKE! http://petitemagique.wordpress.com/


New me

Alex –> http://youngadultfictionblog.com/

Just Patty–>http://petitemagique.wordpress.com/



The Beautiful, the Bad and the Psychotic

Part 5

Alex & Just Patty

I’ve learnt from my wrongs, no teaching me,

I could be wonderful sun-god,

I’m living on a different frequency,

I’ve come from the skies,

Insane knowledge lives deep in me,

Tear from my eyes my indecency,

Primal instincts run free within the streets,

Disrupting the cosmos,

Falling deep-deep in love,

Corrupted from the loss,

Let my hope-star fall from above,

So I can pick up the cost.

I’m an animal, just like you,

I can close my eyes and time-travel,

The minds baffled as a bouncing ball,

I climb and grapple over my nightmares shows,

Time to pick up my pride and fight alone,

We don’t need words where we’re going!

So strip yourself of your clothes and fears,

And join me in planet bowling,

Manic self-loathing and frantic words woven,

I’m jamming up traffic when I magically etch my soul’s sins.

Either on land or water,

I force my own lamb to the slaughter,

The damage won’t stop here,

This is my penance,

A few more days,

A couple more lies,

And I can have my vengeance,

Upon the world, including family and friends.

I shall teach you, right from wrong

Like a goddess on her knees

Singing in tones of harmony

I’ve come from the mountains

Natures force lies within me

Coming out with brutal honesty

Running wild through woods of serendipity

Being one with the universe

Head over heels

Writing another verse

Breaking all of the seals

That are protecting my iron heart

I am human, just like you

I can close my eyes and still see

Everything that lays behind me

I fight the past with a razor sharp blade

Time to take your hand and fight together

Bare naked written words are all we need

So let your nightmares behind and run free

The universe is ours to conquer

With words as our armor and pens as our swords

Use the rampaging thoughts within

Either air or fire

Breathing in the flames, exhale the smoke

The damage will stop here

This is my quest

A few more days

A couple of more nights

And we can have our victory

Upon the world, including our enemies


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Stop Writing about Writing and Write – Something


Stop Writing about Writing and Write – Something. I am giving all my secrets away, free of all charges brought forth to me. I do not want to disappear into the background of my character buildings and over dramatic darkened scenes I live amongst. Pros I use professionally produce are proof of a productive pro. I find sanctuary in the sanatorium of life; I remember the memories, January to December, Hang me from the neck from the ledge of forever. I am changing my mind, at least one of them. Can you see the smoke yet? I am flinging fire from my fingertips, get it? I am not going out.

It’s getting dark in here, the gloom is instantaneously illustrious. They dump my limp discoloured body in a hellhole and thought they buried me for the greater good, now I use my illness and come-out as victor. Now I am coming for a world war because my pen is mightier than their swords; it is a fighting force you have never seen before. I am a madman with a dab hand with words. Throw me in the lion’s den, Simon says, my ocean of words are worse than any crime wave, any time of day, I write insane, while I wait to find my fate upon this page.

insane 12

This is a whimsical tale, I am a magician with this pen; I can make you believe I never existed; now I am gone. My words make more sense than my own life, I don’t fit in but I do when I splodge on paper. Quit while I am ahead? Never. I am a writer, I don’t give up, I only give in. My soul is crying havoc while my body is screaming write; what else am I to do? Apologize? Never. This is the way I am and am this way until I am a deathly writer. Bring forth your fictional pointers and I shall bring my life to the page, burn after reading.

I wish I was a writer, one, someone could look up to as heightened vertigo. One, where no other writer would publish their works around my release date as their words would never make it to eye. One, where the world knew I meant business when I looked upon my computer screen. These are my battles; I have no idea when I will win at this chess game, these are my moves and I shall take all I can.

How to be a great writer? Answer; you must become great first; the words will soon follow, soon after the world will stroll behind you. Answered.

They tell me to show this world something new. There is nothing new, only reworded. I am a mental patient, finding it hard to live amongst sane people. I am an addict to drugs and words; I am still waiting for my overdose of both. So I must reach into my bag of insanity and stretch out a story more horrifying and octane based than any other out there.

What would you like to know? I am scared! Is this what you want to hear? I don’t know what life has in store for me and not knowing what my next move is, is fearsome to me.

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My Darkness Writes Rhymes

new for blog



Kill my thoughts before they kill again,

My souls holes picked locked,

With this wicked pen,

I have stricken men,

Pets, women and children,

I get vicious with them,

Because my hurt comes first,

This curse is the worst,

But first things first;

I’m taking off this blindfold,

Taking the name of a psycho,

Raising my followers as if I was the bible,

Pressing against this collarbone is my rifle,

Let’s get your ghost out of those dry clothes,

I’m spying on you through my motel spy-hole.


I am trying my hardest to bury this sin,

Swallowing a fistful of pills,

I’m merely practicing medicine,

Face droops and head-spins,

‘Til death do us part,

This will be my black wedding.

I’m ready for war, Bring on the drums!

Luckily for me we’re not men of the cloth,

Or we’d all have serious problem,

Alex you’re not regular anymore,

Counting the days on my calendar,

Fearlessness with the spellbinds I write,

My enemies I fight, I dissolve them.

Further into fiction,

Murder with my fingers tipped visions,

When my world stops turning,

Over the lines I’m killing.


Slit my write wrist,

Popped the tablets,

Incase you missed it,

Didn’t kick the habit,

Kicked off the blanket,

Shaking in my boots,

No fear factor,

Taking even more bad fruits.

In the eyes of the beholder,

I will be a memory,

So whatever happens,

Please, just remember me.

I’m traumatised from Earths frostbite,

Reading this? I got you cross-eyed,

Forced fed another lost life,

Living in a bombsite,

 Writing is my only foresight,

Superman putting on glasses,

Because in the land of the blind,

I’d rather be four eyes.


I fall by my will,

 And one day I know I will fall,

After all someone must hold onto this thunder-ball,

Peeking over the wonder-wall,

Tipple-tailing and somersaults,

Happy-slapping and handicapping,

All the worlds’ underdogs.

Fight this thought,

I’m a writer!

Blinded by these words,

A mad mans mind, the rise and fall,

I’m a silent pen crier,

Deep dark depth climber.

Weather calls for extreme conditions,

Heaven falls while we all listen.

I’m a jack of all trade,

I’ve got the rapid response late,

When my magma words roll this way,

My jagged bones stick out from my face,

And I’m still attacking my soul,

With simply a pencil and a page.


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